


(...flat...)

by josephina_x



Series: The Triangle Guy [4]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: ...Or is he?, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, Bill isn’t Bill, Depression, Gen, Identity Issues, One Year Later, Post-Series, Post-Weirdmageddon, Summer’s End
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-29
Updated: 2017-12-29
Packaged: 2019-02-23 10:18:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13188021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/josephina_x/pseuds/josephina_x
Summary: Sixer went and brought Stan back, and Sixer might as well be talking to himself.





	(...flat...)

**Author's Note:**

> Fic: (...flat...)  
> Fandom: Gravity Falls  
> Pairing: n/a  
> Rating: PG-13  
> Spoilers: through the end of the series, and some of the books (Journal #3)  
> Summary: Sixer went and brought Stan back, and Sixer might as well be talking to himself.  
> Disclaimer: Not mine, not for profit.  
> AN: It’ll make more sense later, just bear with me...

\---

“What did you think would happen, hm?” Sixer told him. Sure, it sounded like a question, but he knew a statement from Sixer when he heard one. “Did you think I wouldn’t catch up to him?”

He was tired.

He heard footsteps come closer. “Did you think I wouldn’t talk to him?” The footsteps came to a halt, right in front of him. Sixer was probably standing right in front of the desk, now. “What purpose could it possibly serve to have done that to him?”

He was so, so tired.

“How did you make him forget the boat?” Sixer said. “ _Why_ would you do that? Why would you make him forget everything that had happened after you’d entered his mind?” There was a pause. “Why would you make him forget that I’d wanted him to stay, and not go?”

So very, very tired.

Sixer’s voice got a little closer. Sixer was probably leaning in, now. “Did you really think that I wouldn’t figure it out?”

Everything was grey.

“What are you playing at, Bill?”

They weren’t questions; none of them. Sixer was just talking to himself. He could have not even been in the same room as Sixer, and it wouldn’t have made one whit of difference.

Sixer was just venting at the walls. He was just a flat knick-knack face-down in a birdcage on a desk.

It was quiet for awhile, except for Sixer’s breathing.

And then he heard footsteps moving away. He heard the elevator go again.

\---


End file.
